Sterek is Love

Stiles: we have to stop meeting like this sexy *winks at Derek*

Derek gets taken by hunters. Stiles will do anything to get him back.

Stiles kicks down the door where his husband must be. There is a wave of bodies behind him and upstairs. The body count doesn’t matter when Derek could be dead in this shitty basement in Mexico. 

“Derek?!” he yells again, and there he is. Or there they are, Peter’s here too and somehow Stiles isn’t surprised. 

“Stiles,” Derek croaks out, his voice is shaky, like he’s been screaming, his lips are dry and cracked. 

He sets his guns gently on the ground, and rushes to get the werewolves off of the chainlink fence they’ve probably been tied to for a month. “I’ve got you.”

The cuffs are charmed, which explains why they couldn’t just break them. They aren’t immune to lock picks though, which Stiles is grateful for. Derek falls onto Stiles, bringing him into an embrace and collapsing in exhaustion. Stiles wipes some of the dirt on his face away, and kisses his lips while tears fall from his face. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Stiles admits. He called in every favor he has, and has killed to many people to get here and find Derek another added to the body count. 

“I knew you’d find me,” Derek rasps out, and Stiles goes in for another kiss. 

yes so this is apparently an entirely different nerd!Derek AU from the one I’ve already written shhhh shhhhhhhh just let it happen.

::

“Okay,” Stiles says to himself, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet to psych himself up. “It’s game time. Top of the ninth. Now or never. Fortune favors the brave. Faint heart never won—”

“Fucking hell,” Lydia groans, slamming her book down onto the table. “If you don’t at least ask Hot Librarian for his name this time, I’m going to have sex with him out of sheer spite.”

Stiles gasps. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Watch me.”

“This is the love of my life! The potential love of my life,” Stiles corrects when Lydia gives him a look.

“Yes, be sure to lead with that,” she says, going back to her reading. “He won’t find that creepy at all.”

“Shhh, no talking,” Stiles says venomously as he backs away from their table. “We’re in a library.” 

Someone clears their throat pointedly behind him, and Stiles turns around slowly to find that he’s backed all the way into the circulation desk. Hot Librarian’s desk.

“Hello, librarian,” Stiles says, actually waving at him. It’s the single most awkward two seconds of his life; he’s actually kind of impressed with himself.

“Derek,” says Hot Librarian, and then lowers his gaze to his lap again. His eyelashes are ridiculous.

“Derek,” Stiles repeats, and he hopes he doesn’t sound too much like he’s planning on writing that name in his notebook with little hearts drawn around it. He leans on the desk, determined to plant here until he manages to form a coherent sentence, or until Derek tells him to leave. Whichever comes first.

As soon as Stiles leans in, though, Derek jumps and tries to jerk something out of his lap. “Shit,” Derek says softly, and Stiles’ pulse jumps because he likes the way Derek curses, apparently.

“Whatcha got there?” Stiles goes up on his toes, leaning further over. “Looks like—are you sewing?”

“It’s a slow day,” Derek says, defensive. “And I like this cardigan.”

“Me too,” Stiles says, recognizing it. “The argyle is a little much, but your shoulders look awesome in it.”

“Wha—ow,” Derek says, pulling the needle out of the pad of his thumb. “Fuck.”

Stiles shudders. He wants to hear Derek say that all night long. “I gotta ask you something.”

“Okay, just…” Derek tries to lift the cardigan off his lap, only to find that the stitches go right through to his jeans. He heaves a huge, resigned sigh, as if this is a common occurrence. Stiles is absolutely in love.

“Once you pull those stitches out and close up for the night, can I buy you dinner?” 

Derek abruptly stops tugging at the thread and looks up at him slowly. “Seriously?”

“Okay, well,” Stiles says, heart sinking as he starts to retreat. “It was worth a shot.”

“No. Yes. I mean, Stiles. Yes.”

“Yes?” Stiles beams. “Okay, yes. Wait. How did you know my name?”

“It’s on your library card.”

Stiles gapes. “You memorize all the patron’s names?” 

Derek’s eyes go shifty. “No.”

For @proud-librarian my wife

“I am just worried about you.” Laura says with a frown. “You haven’t dated anyone in a long time.” Derek sighs because this is a conversation is has now had with every member of his family except for Uncle Peter. Yet. The yet was the scary part.

“I dont just want to date anyone,” Derek beings. “I want a meaningful connection. Someone who could be a loyal and worthwhile mate.” He doesn’t feel like his standards are that high but apparently they are too high in his family’s eyes. Laura rolls her eyes and holds open the door to the coffee shop.

“I wanna feel his beard burn on my ass for days” Says a guy, softly, at the back of the shop. The guy is probably talking to himself, under the impression that Derek can’t hear him. Only he can because he’s a werewolf. Something this guy has no idea about. 

Derek doesn’t mean to snap his head around so fast. He gets hit on in passing a lot. But something about the this particular statement makes his head swivel so fast the guy startles. 

And chokes on his coffee.

And fails. 

Nothing about this display should be hot. The guy looks Peter Pan young, covered in moles and messy hair. He is coughing so hard his eyes are watering and what coffee he didn’t choke on is now on his pants because he spilled in the middle of his coughing fit. 

He’s a disaster.

Derek is unbelievably into him.

The guy manages to pull himself together as Derek walks over, frantically patting at his legs and crotch with napkins.

“Oh my god please don’t eat me with your perfect white teeth. I had no idea you were a werewolf man. I gotta learn to keep this shit to myself. I promise to leave no and never come back. Just please spare me.” The guy babbles. 

“How am I supposed to give you beard burn if I don’t eat you–” Derek lets the pause hang as the guy’s eyes widen comically. “–out.”

The guy smiles big, wide, and dopey. Derek grins back, deeply pleased. 

“Stiles.” The guy, Stiles, holds out his hand that isn’t filled with napkins.

“Derek.” The handshake is warm and strong and perfect. Laura snorts in the check out line.

This is for @sterekislovely for the incredible prompt, and also for Fanfiction Cocky Week, because #byefaleena! 

You can also read it on AO3. 

“Cocky little shit!” the grocery store security guard yells as John skates past the “No Skateboarding” sign on the sidewalk and shows the guy his middle finger. John’s been hanging out here for a few weeks now with his buddies, and the security guard wants to murder them. It’s funny as hell.

John does another pass, and thinks about dropping his jeans to moon the guard as well, but he’s caused enough of a distraction already. Enough for Rick to sneak out of the store with a bag of chips under his shirt anyhow.

John and Donny and Rick hang out around the grocery store most afternoons. Sometimes they go to the mall, but the mall in Beacon Hills is kind of lame, or at least John’s experiences of it are, since their security guards can actually run. So he and his buddies hang out here instead. A few blocks back from the grocery store there’s a vacant lot that nobody seems to own, and they end up there a lot, eating chips and talking shit as the afternoons wind slowly down into night.

When it’s dark, John walks home with his skateboard tucked under his arm.

He stands for a while on the front porch of his house, the boards sagging under his feet, before he pushes the door open.

The TV is blaring in the living room.

John treads down the hallway to the kitchen. His mother is chopping vegetables by the sink. She looks up as he enters the room. The bags under her eyes make her look ghoulish.

“Don’t upset your father,” she says.

John nods, then grabs a couple of slices of bread from the loaf on the counter and goes to his room to eat them. The noise from the television vibrates through the thin walls.

Don’t upset your father. That’s code for He’s angry tonight.

John sets his skateboard down, and crouches on the floor where his tape player’s plugged in. He finds his headphones, and jams the socket in.

He closes his eyes, and turns the volume up so loud that he can’t hear the TV anymore.

You’ll ruin your hearing, his mom always chides.

He gets so angry sometimes though, that this is the only way he can be in this stifling little house, stuck between his mom’s weary misery and his dad’s explosive temper. So he puts his headphones on, and cranks the volume all the way up, and listens to Kiss Off by The Violent Femmes.

***

MR.DEEDS au

“You said you didn’t know who I was, And it made me realize I don’t know who I am. So I started working on it and here’s what I got so far. My name is Derek Hale.I grew up in New York. I have gray blue eyes like my mother’s and I don’t actually need my glasses unless its for reading.”

“When I was in 10th grade, I got a crush on Paige Krasikeva. I really did have that Superman notebook I was telling you about. I love Bruce Springsteen, Almond Roca and Abbott and Costello movies. I don’t like liquorice or my eyebrows and the way i scowl.”

“More importantly,I know that I messed up real bad. And I’d be willing to spend the rest of my life begging you to give me another chance because I am so deeply in love with you, and I know it’s definitely that forever kind of love-”